


Another Night, Another Day, Another Chance to Make it Great

by tinycrown



Series: You ever have that one character you adore? yeah that's anduin. [4]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Current Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, M/M, NOW INCLUDES, One shots from a, Past Child Abuse, i don't know what happened to me, im sorry, just here writing about my son who deserves better, me eating poptarts and trying to be a writer again, the usual, uhhhh, you kno - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: hashshshhhsd i have mad writers block please take these shitty slowly pushed out oneshotsbear with me shipwrecked will be back soon





	1. Bolvar Always Knows

Bolvar frowned down at the paperwork in his hands, noticing the familiar shaky scrawl of Anduin’s signature in the corner. No doubt Katrana had been railing him to get it down so it wouldn’t look so informal, but not many of the contractors minded. He was a child. Children aren’t very good at adult-things. He sighed and placed it back down into the sending pile. 

A faint knocking sound and a yell echoed from beneath him. It was quiet, but it was there. The paladin’s ears perked as he stopped, breathing lightly as he strained his ears to listen. The noise sounded as if it was coming from the dungeons beneath the castle. Confused, he knelt down and pressed his ear to the cold stone floor, a shudder crawling down his spine. 

It was easier to hear when he was closer. It was clear, soft crying and gibberish-like words. The voice sounded oddly familiar. But who was in the dungeons? It was usually locked. They didn’t use the dungeons as much anymore, just for storage and other odd things. Bolvar knelt and pushed himself to stand using the table, his old knees cracking. The paladin sighed. The noises were concerning, so he should go check it out just for safety’s sake. If someone got locked down there… The smell was terribly musty and bad for the body. Too much mold could make you sick. 

He left the study and walked toward the stairwell, not too far from the Royal Garden. The hallways were quiet with the occasional breeze of dust fluttering through the sunlit air, framed by stained glass windows. He took a sharp turn and was faced with dark stairwell. It went directly to a hallway where at the end of it were the doors to the dungeon. Heavy wooden doors barred with a lock- a simple plank of hardwood held on two metal studs. Feeling slightly unsettled, he walked down the dark hallway, coming to the door and lifting the plank carefully. He set it on the wall and pushed the door in, little light being filtered through. 

A frail body, hunched and shaking. He crept forward. The child- child? The child was still crying, seemingly not calm enough to notice him. Bolvar stopped a few feet in and stared. There was so little light, he could hardly see. There weren’t any other children in the keep. Just the staff, who were mostly adults or young adults, some older. Bolvar stopped, metal creaking in the silence. Drops of water dripped steadily through cracked fissures. He caught a shock of blond hair in one moment from the glint of his armor. Then, it dawned upon him.

“Anduin?” The body startled and yelped, turning and shuffling away from him, his small face barely illuminated. Bolvar knelt down again as if he were consoling a small animal. “Anduin, what are you doing down here? What’s wrong?” The boy stopped for a minute, but skittered frantically toward him and nestled into the paladin, still shaking. The regent froze, hands stilled as the boy king cried into his plate. He was afraid. Why was he afraid? 

“Hey, kiddo, what’s the matter?” He pulled Anduin back slightly, noting a dark liquid falling from his cheek. Blood. “Where’d you get that shiner, huh?” He noted the dark bruising forming right beside the cut. He slipped his hands out of his gauntlet sand tied them to his belt, reaching forward to lift the boy up. He wrapped his arms around his neck, too shaken to speak. Bolvar grimaced at the violent tremors crawling down the child’s back, rubbing it soothingly as he left the dungeons, pulling the door shut behind him. 

How had Anduin gotten locked down there? He couldn’t have done it by himself. If he was scared by someone or even attacked, he would go straight to Bolvar or another guard- hell, Johnson and Taylor were around the keep somewhere. If not in the keep then out in the city, at least. There were guards everywhere. 

He gestured to the royal guards to open the door to the boy’s room, requesting a first aid kit. The guard nodded and headed off, his partner standing dutifully outside the boy’s room, sending a pitiful look toward the king’s shaken state. He set Anduin down on the bed, kneeling down in front of him. In the fresh air and the light, the king seemed to feel slightly better, not surrounded by darkness. Every child seemed to have a great fear of darkness, didn’t they? Bolvar took his chin and turned his head, grimacing. 

“What happened, Anduin? How did you get locked down there?” The boy swallowed his tears and took a deep breath. 

“I… I can’t remember.” He rubbed his head, tears welling again as he brushed a sensitive spot on his face. 

“Did someone attack you?” 

“No…” His answer was oddly suspicious. Anduin knew exactly who put him down there, but maybe he was too embarrassed to say? Too afraid, possibly. 

“Anduin.” He scolded, causing the king to flinch and look down immediately. It was too coordinated. Trained? He noticed swelling around his small wrists when he tried to give him a sort of once-over to check if anything else seemed funny. He reached forward and shoved his sleeve up, red welts littering his arm. He turned his pale arm over and noticed it all the same on that side too, stretching down to his palm. Bolvar straightened, alarmed. 

This wasn’t just some ‘I fell down another tree!’ moment that Anduin had, scraping his knees or elbows. Someone was hurting him on purpose. He looked at his other arm and found it again, but not so bad. It looked old, actually. So this wasn’t the first time? They didn’t look treated. Bolvar glowered at the arm, moving to stare at the child in question. 

“Anduin, who is hurting you?”

A sudden knock at the door, and Bolvar started. He stood quickly and took the first aid kit from the guard, thanking him. 

“Can you fetch a healer? And Wyll Benton, please.” He knew that the old servant would be around there somewhere. He was always near Anduin, well- he kind of had to be. The guard nodded, asking if he needed anything else. Bolvar shook his head and thanked him. 

He closed the door and opened the box, grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad. He would have to clean the fresher wounds if he wanted to be in… considerably less pain than he probably was in now. Anduin was still silent, trembling very little since earlier. If this had been going on for a long time, then this would have been the first time the perpetrator locked Anduin in the dungeon. This would have to be someone Anduin was familiar with, no stranger would come in and just start abusing the prince. That wouldn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be Wyll. He was too gentle, and he had known Anduin since he was a baby. The man was practically family and he had no motives. Varian was missing, and he neglected his child anyways so it was out of the question. Jaina wasn’t around that often to even inflict any harm- it was disturbing to think that she would, given her kind nature and fondness toward the prince. 

That just left Katrana, the only other close to the prince in terms of being his teacher and royal councilor. She was… charming, to say the least. She was harsh when it came to words, but a master in persuasion. The guards did what she said when she told them to, the House of Nobles were even swayed by her speeches and proclamations. In a way it was disturbing, but it made sense. She could use her ‘Auntie Katrana’ persona to make the king feel safe, then use her power to usurp and abuse him. When he started to think about it more, it really did make sense. 

The door opened again and pairs of footsteps came into the room, frantic. Wyll stopped just behind the healer, a concerned look crossing his face. The priest nodded to him and grimaced at the sight of Anduin. His arms, his face. Eyes red-rimmed and skin pale, thinner than he used to be. Like meals were being kept from him. 

The boy whimpered as the priest cleaned his cuts with medical alcohol. But in a matter of moments, the wounds were gone and he looked… mildly healthier than before. 

“He has a minor concussion, but if he holds off on any strenuous activity like his archery he should be fine.” Bolvar thanked the priest, sending him off with a few bits of coin for his trouble. Wyll sat beside the boy, tugging him into his side. Anduin shoved his sleeves down and curled into his caretaker. 

“Are you okay enough now to tell me?”

“I said I can’t remember.” His voice was harder but still shaky. Bolvar raised an eyebrow at his attitude. 

“Are you sure?” Bolvar sighed, swiping a few stray hairs from his fringe, tucking them behind his ear. Anduin nodded stiffly, hiding his face in Wyll’s shoulder. With the mild concussion, Bolvar could somehow believe him, blank memories coupled with shock didn’t make the best amnesia medicine. He couldn’t blame the boy, but at the same time, his tone was suspicious. Bolvar bet Anduin remembered everything, but was either too proud or too afraid to tell him. 

“Well… if anyone starts to hurt you again you come find me, or Johnson, Wyll, Taylor- anyone, we’ll help you. Okay?” Anduin nodded again, a little softer. He hoped he didn’t miss the non-mention of Katrana. Just in case… he would have a few words with her. 


	2. Festivities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin hates being stuck in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prendi la spazzatura

Anduin ducked his head and smiled as his master stepped through the portal from the  _ Exodar _ . He hadn’t seen Velen in months after his initial training. He’d learned much, but not a lot. The incident, he’d opened Velen’s eyes. Every life was a universe, and wars were never reversible. It was shocking to witness the breaking of Velen’s own ignorance toward the rest of Azeroth, merely focusing on the Burning Legion’s pursuit of the universe. 

Anduin shook his head and bowed his head respectfully as Velen approached. The Prophet returned a warm smile and nodded back. Anduin had been home for a few months, an awkward chasm still broken between father and son. Anduin had tried hard to reconcile, especially after Remembrance Day, but things were still slightly tense. He’d stuck to his room, the library… sneaking away from his guards. The usual. Though he’d get a stern lecture from Taylor and his father, Anduin rebutted that he wasn’t leaving the city this time. Key words being,  _ this time _ . It had happened multiple times before. Why couldn’t his father understand that he was  _ no _ leashed pet to be treasured. He was a living being with the right to go as he pleased. Yes, he could parent how he wished. He couldn’t attempt to control how Anduin responded. 

Thankfully, he hadn’t… physically browbeat him into doing what he said. He just put more restrictions and a longer grounding point. First it was just a day, now his ban was being confined to his room. For two weeks. 

He tried to leave with Reverence this time. It didn’t go well, considering both he and the horse were strikingly bright in features. Anduin had pale golden hair, Reverence had a white pelt. It was stupid of him to even try. 

“My student, it is good to see you again.”

“You as well, Master.” The Prophet raised an eyebrow, and Anduin quickly corrected himself. “Velen. Sorry.” His smile was pinched. 

“Will you be accompanying us and the others to the festivities?” Every ally of Stormwind was in the city, celebrating the aftermath of Deathwing’s defeat. And, the crown prince would not make an entrance. Why? He was grounded. 

“Ah… no.” His smile was now bitter. He wasn’t upset that he wasn’t celebrating, he was upset because he would be alone for the day. Well… every day he was alone, but this time even his guards wouldn’t be present near his room. They were set out to a complicated rotation out in the city. They had to make sure nothing went too askew, and that would be hard coupling dwarves with their love for drink. Something was bound to go rowdy. Velen peered down at him, raising a hairless eyebrow. 

“How come? I am told that there will be no guards in the keep today.”

“Yes, well I am… um… grounded.” He finished quietly, “Father said I could come out to say hello, but I am supposed to be in my room by now.” Velen’s face became hard. 

“By yourself?”

“Not exactly. Periodically they will come to check every two and a half hours. I won’t be completely isolated, I suppose.” Anduin’s smile fell as he looked back to his father. “I’ve got to go. I hope you enjoy the celebration!” Velen did not smile back, but nodded again as the prince turned to leave. 

Anduin sighed as he came back to the empty hallway, devoid of any guards. It did make him feel slightly unsafe, knowing he would be alone for so long. It felt terrible… at least he wasn’t locked away, he  _ could _ leave. But he’d rather not risk his father’s ire any more than he did. 

Anduin slipped off his epaulets and his boots, flopping down onto his bed and curling up over the duvet. He wished he had a book, but he’d returned all the ones he’d read to the library and didn’t really feel like going in there alone. He’d rather stay in his room. The uneasy feelings hadn’t gone away. If anything, they increased. Anduin kept himself facing the door, glancing at the closed window from time to time. He could practically hear the gnomish clock ticking every second on the minute, and he knew that no time would pass with him just staring, paranoid. 

He sat up from his bed, blowing hot air up at his bangs which fell in front of his eyes. Clutching the blanket, he pursed his lips and moved to the window. He opened it slightly and sat in the nook, curled up on the pillow he’d put there ages ago whenever he wanted to read in his room. He sighed and stared out at the city, people bustling about. He could see them having a good time, even from his room up high. It was nice to see everyone so happy and together. No dark faces, crying children. No grey skies. A bright and blue beautiful day with the sun shimmering. And he was stuck in his room due to his own stupidity. 

Anduin buried his nose in his knees and sighed, shucking off his outer coat and throwing it at his desk, leaving him in a light long-sleeved tunic. He folded his arms across his knees and stared out at the busy city, cheek pressed against his forearm. 

Anduin hated being alone, especially in dark places. It was… childish enough to say, it was scary. He hated it worse than thinking about the possible assassins headed his way in that very moment. And that wasn’t such a nice thought either. Anduin sighed and squinted as a gryphon rider soared past him, free in the skies. Flying, happy-while bound to duty. 

He was bound to the shackles under his bed. 

Anduin wished he could at least go down to the stables and see Reverence. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so isolated. The horse was gentle and kind as he was in return, he could also be playful and mischievous. Reverence was the perfect partner. 

The prince glanced back at his bed and considered taking a nap. While it would be painful to curl up in his too-small bed, it would pass the time easier if he could just sleep the unbearable lump in his chest away. If he hadn’t been grounded today he could have spent some actual time with his father. But he did something bad, and he got punished for it. While the prince understood it, he didn’t think it was fair. 

Why couldn’t his father see anything from his shoes? Keeping him confined to his room only made him want to leave the city more and more each day. It was a terrible ache in his throat, the feeling of loneliness. It hurt worse every day he was stuck in his room. He wanted to give up and just stay numb in his bed, but what kind of prince would he be to do that? If he could give up on himself, then he could give up on his people just as easily. It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to his father to show he couldn’t take his punishment with grace. If he crawled back to him like a toddler crying for attention it would only show that he was weak. He  _ wasn’t _ weak, and he could prove it. He could take another week of isolation if it meant that his father would accept him. 

Anduin steeled himself and stared back at the city, down at the entrance of the keep. He found his father walking next to Genn and a few other guards, presumably coming to check on him for the first time. Had it been two and a half hours already? He stiffened slightly and hugged his knees tighter. Why were they coming too? To rub it in his face that they could leave and he couldn’t? Why couldn’t they just let the guards check on him and then leave? Anduin knew and believed firmly that he could do this... He just didn’t know if he could handle them leaving again. 

Before he knew it, there was a knock at his door.  _ I can’t do this _ . He backtracked frantically. He felt tears welling in his eyes.  _ I don’t want to let them in. They can’t see me like this. I won’t be able to hold it in _ . 

“Anduin, open the door.”

“Leave me alone!” He shouted back, voice wavering as he violently drew his curtains shut. 

“Anduin.” It was a harder voice, and the boy flinched. He took a few deep breaths, furiously wiping his wet eyes to seem at least like he was only mildly irritated. He approached the door as the cold from the stone floor swept through his body. He unlocked the door and opened it, his stare so vindictive it made the guards shift with unease. He stood stalwart as he glared at his father, tears still glassy but he vehemently hoped that it wasn’t noticeable. He wasn’t about to cry in front of him. Not again. Anduin lowered his gaze to the floor before he straightened his shoulders, furrowing his brows loosely. 

“What.” His voice was sharp and thick, almost as if he was begging for an answer rather than demanding one. His Father’s gaze softened as he put a hand up, walking inside and closing the door. Anduin stood there for a moment, simply looking at him. The prince shook his head and laid down on his bed, facing away from his father. 

“I know you’re upset with me.”

“I thought you were upset with me, that’s why I’m grounded.” Anduin replied hotly while pushing his cheek into the pillow. He felt a large, warm hand fall on his arm and squeeze softly. 

“We can both be mad at each other, son.”  
“It depends on which one of us is unreasonable.” He knew he was instigating, but some part of him _wanted_ to hurt him. Like he had done to the prince many times before. He just stood there and took it. This time he would talk back. See how he liked it. 

“I’m not the one who snuck out.”  
“It’s not like I was leaving forever. Reverence hardly gets to exercise. It’s not fair to give me a horse and then not let me take care of him. He needs to get out and run around every few days.” 

“You could have at least asked, Anduin.” He argued, attempting to pull to boy to face him. Anduin yanked out of his grip harder than he should have, almost hearing the scowl on his father’s face. 

“You would have said no.” 

“I wouldn’t have.” 

“You  _ would _ . Don’t lie.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’ve used every reason, every time I try to leave. I just want to leave, by myself. You have to trust me!”

“Of course I trust you!” He shot back as Anduin sat up to face him, cheeks red and lip trembling.

“Is that why you left me here, alone?! Because you  _ trust _ me?! What kind of trust is this, Father?!” He yelled, sucking in a harsh breath that could have easily been a sob. 

“I do trust you- I just-”

“What you thought I would be  _ safe _ here? You know more than anyone that I’m safer with you than alone! I thought we had gotten past this!” 

“You weren’t safe with me then!”

“Yes I was!” 

“We both nearly  _ died _ , Anduin!” 

“No. You nearly died!” He corrected, jabbing a finger at his chest. The man had stood up now, pacing with heavy footsteps as Anduin stood on the other side, hoping he was at a safe distance if Lo’gosh decided to strike. “You nearly died because you were trying to protect me. I can protect myself, and you of all people should know that! You’ve never trusted me, and you refuse to admit it!” Anduin stormed forward, and with all of his strength he shoved his father. The man stumbled, caught off guard. His eyes narrowed. 

“Do  _ not _ put your arms against me.”

“I should say the same to you!” Tears fell fast down his face, angry, vulnerable. He was tired of feeling small and weak. He was tired of being afraid of his family, his friends, of anyone that decided to get too close because he was sheltered by the blood of those he was supposed to protect. His father looked angry, but hurt and confused. He had no idea where his usually gentle son’s angry outburst was coming from. He reached out slowly, but Anduin immediately took that as a threat. He flinched away violently and forced the Light into his hands.

“Don’t touch me!” He yelped, the forcefield pushing out so strongly that it threw Varian out the door, rusty hinges squeaking against the sudden weight. Anduin stomped forward and slammed his door shut, locking it. Shaken, the prince backed away from the door and hugged his arms around himself, sinking down next to his bed and resting his head against it. He sobbed quietly into the duvet and clenched his fist into the soft cotton.

_ I want to leave. I don’t feel safe here. He’s supposed to make me feel safe. He said he had to protect me, but I don’t need him to. I just want to feel safe. That’s all. _ There was more knocking at his door. Softer, less aggressive. Anduin buried his face into his blanket and attempted to ignore it, each knock like a bullet flying through the air, sharp and sudden. Whoever it was, they didn’t deserve to see him like this. They deserved him at his best. He wasn’t at his best. 

The knocking ceased after a while, and the prince was thankful. He couldn’t face anyone in this state. The previous thought returned, and Anduin wondered how he could manage to escape this time. He shuffled back over to his door, pressing his ear to the damaged wood. There were dents where his father’s armor had hit. Anduin winced. He hoped he didn’t hurt him, but he did hope he got his message across. 

There was nothing but the wind. No sound of the guard’s armor clanking. That meant he was alone once more. Anduin leaned back and pushed up his sleeve, wiping his cheeks. The tunic was made out of soft fabric, so it didn’t irritate his cheek as much. He sniffed in from his runny nose and changed out of his notably royal clothing. He wouldn’t disappear forever, he just wanted to get out for a while. He couldn’t stay here, suffocating in silence and isolation. He wanted to take Reverence and  _ go _ . Just ride. Ride out his anger, frustration, sadness, everything. He just wanted to leave. 

Anduin put his boots on, simple leather that folded under his knees. He dug through his closet and found a non-blue cloak, finding a rich red-gray one. He flung it around his shoulders and tied the thick leather strap across his neck, throwing the hood up. Quietly, he opened the door and slipped out into the hall. 

He hoped there weren’t any guards on the stairs to the entrance of the keep. There weren’t any when he looked out there, but things could have changed when he closed the curtains. He skittered down the throne room and peeked outside the entrance. It was devoid of guards, but there was no doubt that some would come patrolling by. He ran down the steps and cut it hard to the left, slowing to a walk while trying to sneak his way through the mini-crowd. The royal stables weren’t far from the keep. He just had to get there. 

Anduin took a sharp turn, hunching in on himself as he maneuvered through the festivities. The smell of food caused his stomach to rumble, but he ignored it. He didn’t bother to grab coin from his room- not like he had much anyways. Maybe a few coppers. Anduin shuffled into a back alley and slipped into a nook that separated the main alley from the stables. He nearly broke back into tears as he saw his friend, standing restlessly while he whinnied and neighed, obviously annoyed. Anduin smiled as he approached the horse, opening the gate and stepping inside the stable. It was freshly cleaned, the smell of new hay a nice contrast to the smell of food wafting through the city. He revealed his face slightly through the hood, and Reverence neighed softly. The big horse nuzzled his cheek against Anduin’s and began to shuffle his legs excitedly. 

“It’s good to see you, buddy.” He patted the side of his neck and retrieved the saddle hanging carelessly over the side of the stable. It was heavy to move, but he got up onto Reverence quickly. He crouched down and buckled the leather strap under his belly. He attached the strap to the two in front, and then retrieved the padded bridle sitting on a stool next to the gate. He clasped it tight, but not too tight. The metal looked like it could bite into the skin beside his mouth- though it wasn’t designed to, Anduin couldn’t help but worry. He didn’t want the horse to feel uncomfortable. He attached the reins to the sides of the bridle and drew them up and around the back of his neck, looping it around the high buck of the saddle. Placing his foot in the footholds, he hefted himself up and over onto his back. Reverence whinnied happily as Anduin pressed him into a quick trot. 

He knew the guards were looking at him funny as he left, but they weren’t the same ones that were supposed to check on him. They didn’t even know he wasn’t supposed to be out right now. A rush of fearful adrenaline raced through him as he reached the tunnels out toward the Valley of Heroes, frowning up at the ruined guard towers with dried lava crackling out of them. He returned his gaze to the tunnels and took a sharp turn, carefully avoiding any citizens that were crawling all over the city. 

He knew that General Clay would be out there, but if he avoided looking straight at him then it would be fine. Anduin weaved through travellers, slowing Reverence down as he exited the city. It was exciting to not be caught red-handed in the stables. His father had no idea he was gone, and it was exhilarating. 

Once outside the gates, the road- though still busy- was his. He grinned and poked Reverence into a gallop, travellers and merchants jumping out of his way which shouts of anger. Anduin didn’t care though. He was  _ free _ . He could go wherever he wanted, no king looming at his back or father yelling in his ear. The smile on his face was uncontrollable, ducking his head into the collar of his cloak as Reverence neighed excitedly. 

They took a right from Goldshire, but Anduin cut off the path and stuck to the river. He could see the dreary Duskwood, the dry-drought fallen Westfall. After a long gallop down the river toward Redridge, he stopped close by to the Brackwell’s farm. Anduin hopped off of his side and laid back into the grass, staring up at his companion. 

“What, do you want to lay in the grass?” He smiled, sitting up. He untied the clasp under his belly and slid the saddle off. Right after he did that, the big horse turned and rolled along the ground like a dog. Anduin hugged the saddle between his knees and chest and laughed at him. Reverence stopped rolling after a few minutes and looked over at him, snout resting against the ground. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take you for the rides you want to go on.” He became somber as he moved the saddle, falling forward and laying over the horse’s large body. “Father’s been cracking down ever since I returned. He says he trusts me… but… he can hardly let me out of my room, let alone the keep.” Reverence neighed back softly in response, a little irritated. “He says he just wants to protect me… and I’m not opposed to that, but his methods are not ideal,” The prince sighed, rubbing a bit of dirt off the side of his flank. “I already don’t have friends… does he want to drive me mad?” Angry tears welled up in his eyes again, but he forced himself not to cry. Instead he smiled. “I wish you could stay in my room with me, but I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You might break everything in there.” Reverence huffed as Anduin shuffled closer to his chest, curling up under the horse’s head. 

“Let’s just hope and pray that he doesn’t confine me to the dungeons after this. I’m supposed to be grounded, you know. I snuck out for you…”  _ And for me _ , he didn’t say, still feeling slightly unsafe. He was out in the open. But…  _ I don’t think any assassin would expect a prince out here. By himself. _ Anduin sighed as he closed his eyes.  _ Maybe that nap couldn’t hurt… Reverence can wake me up if something is wrong _ . He felt exhausted after the emotional turmoil he induced with his father, so falling asleep wasn’t hard. 

* * *

Varian frowned as he pushed against the awkward fold between his back and his chestplate, muscles twitching, sore and achy. He never expected nor did he know what to do about Anduin’s new behavior. It was a sudden change, and an aggressive one at that. Anduin had never shown any kind of angry tendencies. The switch from his gentle nature to something so disturbed and stubborn- not that Anduin wasn’t  _ already _ stubborn. It troubled the king greatly. 

“He didn’t answer. Not like I was expecting him to anyways,” Genn’s miffed voice called from the entrance as he met Varian. The old wolf had never approved of Varian’s “parenting style”. He’d never been so rough with his children- but he’d never been in Varian’s shoes either. He knew that he had trouble controlling his rage. He just didn’t think that it would be so difficult even after he had mastered it. 

“He’s never exploded like that before…” Varian mused, stroking the fuzzy stubble on his chin, grimacing at the twinge in his back. What was Velen  _ teaching _ him? He’d have to ask. 

“You locked him in his room. Of course he’s going to be mad.” Again, monotone but angry. Varian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He was going to regret this..

“What would you do? I obviously handled it poorly to your unachievable standards. I’m not good at this, okay?”

“Clearly,” the wolf raised his eyebrows, unamused. “I’m not a perfect father, Varian, but I know that’s  _ not _ how you punish kids. Take away his library privilege, something that he enjoys to do as a hobby. Don’t take away social interaction. That’s just cruel. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him around other children, and I think you’re making it harder to even have friends.” 

He’d known that while Anduin practically clung to any relationship he could find, the boy was awkward when he tried to reach out to others, those he didn’t know. He didn’t try to make any friends around his own age, and Varian still didn’t know why.  _ I’ll have to ask… would that be intrusive? _

“Anduin’s never tried talking to other adolescents his age.”

“I wonder why…” Genn walked past him. 

“Genn, I’m serious.” 

“I’m sure you are.” He hummed. The gladiator was becoming frustrated. He exhaled frustratedly through his nose. 

“I never actually locked him in his room.” Varian groaned. “I probably should have made that clear.” 

“He probably took it that way because of that Prestor woman. And where else would he go in an empty keep? He probably doesn’t feel safe outside of his room.” 

“I thought that maybe if I left him alone he would think that I was trusting him to be able to protect himself.” Varian argued softly, a cynical chortle leaving his lips.  _ I thought that was what he wanted _ . 

“You surround him with guards constantly,” Genn gestured his hands out to the crowds they neared, guards hustling about or lingering. “And then you suddenly snatch them from him,” he yanked his hands back, “He’s probably feeling quite vulnerable. I know I would.” Varian looked to the cobbled ground and shook his head. 

“I knew that at some point he would eventually start yelling back, I just didn’t think that it would get physical.” He rubbed his abdomen, wincing. That forcefield felt like a bruiser’s shield. It  _ hurt _ . 

“You probably deserve it,” Genn chuckled, patting his shoulder. Varian nodded, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Listen, Varian, you shouldn’t police him. When I tried to do that to Tess I nearly lost her. And she’s almost a decade older than him.” The king grimaced. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” A flashback to Tiffin, holding her lifeless body in his arms. “Well… as long as he was still alive… I think I’d be able to forgive him. But I can’t  _ not _ be there to protect him.”

“You can’t hide him away forever, Varian. He’s been kidnapped, what, a handful of times? They’ll just find new ways to take him, and soon it will end in his death.” Varian flinched. “You can’t always be there, and that’s fine, but you can’t let him be so confined he can hardly defend himself.”

The king scoffed, “I think he can protect himself just fine.”

“While panicking? I don’t think so. You should speak with Velen and instill some real fighting into his training.”

“When I sent Anduin to Ironforge they taught him plenty about fighting. He just doesn’t like to integrate it… I suppose I can understand that. Healers aren’t supposed to be threatening.” 

“Who said that? All healers are dangerous. They just disguise it.” Varian hummed, “The most innocent can be the most cruel,” He quoted anonymously, squeezing between Varian and a line of people in front of a cart.

“I don’t think Anduin has it in him to willingly hurt a fly, let alone another person with malicious intentions. I believe he’d only hurt out of defense… even then, I'm worried.” 

“I don’t think he’ll go easy on them, if that’s what your about to say next.”

“It wasn’t.” Varian deadpanned as the entered the Canals, bustling with all sorts of merchants and adventurers. “I just worry who he will face, and whether he could handle it. Maybe I should spar with him.”

“He’s awful with a sword, Varian!” Genn shot back hotly, stopping and planting his hands on his belt. 

“I know!” He defended, throwing his hands up. “I will let him choose what he wants to fight with…” He trailed off, looking over at a particular merchant by a wall full of exotic weapons. Among them, a few daggers. He spotted a few twins, sharp and bladed perfectly for his son’s size. Valeera would have fun- though she would be shocked that Varian condoned Anduin’s sort of… apprenticeship, with his friend. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when he found out she was teaching the prince how to throw knives at  _ ten _ , but… he was quite skilled as a rogue, wasn’t he? 

“Varian, hello- King Wrynn, are you functioning?” A scraggly-yet-squeaky voice called out to him. He looked up, and then down. Mekkatorque, out of his mech. He raised a brow at his purple striped bow tie and matching suit. 

“Gelbin,” he greeted, trying hard not to laugh. “Nice suit.” he snorted. The gnome barked a laugh and nodded. 

“So, were you eyeing up that vendor or somethin’? seemed  _ real _ lost in thought.” 

“No, I was not  _ eyeing the vendor _ . She’s selling weapons.” He knew that Anduin didn’t exactly have his own set, usually borrowing some from the armory whenever he felt like practicing. It would make a great gift, considering his birthday was just around the corner. 

“What were you lookin’ at? Didn’t think you’d ever get rid of that sword of yours!” the gnome turned to face the vendor as well, but Varian didn’t respond. He approached the woman and gestured to the daggers. 

“May I?”

“Of course, King Wrynn.” She picked up one carefully and laid it across his palm. It was just a little bigger than the size of his hand, the blade was sharp and curved, the metal a deep blue cobalt tapering into silver grips. He had a feeling that Anduin would like them, no matter how angry he was at Varian… 

“How much?” 

“They were forged in the Outland, and I had to go very far out of my way to retrieve them. A hundred gold each.” She bartered, picking up the other and tossing it up and down haphazardly. Varian nodded. 

“That’s fair.” He fished from his pouch a grey paper checkbook. He ripped out a page and wrote the amount, signing his name and then asking for hers. “Royal Bank, whenever you wish to retrieve it. Just show them this- I’m sure you know the rest.” He handed her the check and she nodded, tying the daggers to a chain and handing them to him. He clipped it to his belt and moved along. 

Genn eyed him questioningly, Mekkatorque still grinning as he always did. 

“Now he’s got something to spar with,” he gestured to the daggers. Genn raised his eyebrows and nodded. 

“... very, ah, it seems very much like him now that I’m looking at it, actually.” The Gilnean king noted, approving of his choice.

“It better be, considering I just spent two hundred gold on it.” 

“It looks worth it, if I can be of any sympathy.” Varian waved him off.

“Not like I have much to do with personal money but buy booze with it. His birthday is next week anyways, so I figured… you know..” 

“I’m sure he’ll love it, Varian.” Genn chuckled. 

* * *

“Rev’nce… m’ tired, stop it!” he laughed as the incessant sniffing returned to his ear. He hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood up. He yelped as it came close again, and the prince rolled away. Grass littered his clothes and hair as he looked up at the horse. “Why did you wake me up? I’m still tired.” he crouched forward again and leaned against his neck, nuzzling into his strong heartbeat. 

When Reverence pushed his chin toward the sky, Anduin realized that it was almost dark. The sun was just about set and a darker hue of blue had opaqued the sky. Anduin became disappointed. 

“I ruined our day, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have slept. I’m sorry, buddy. Maybe I can… Maybe I can convince father to let me do this again soon?” Reverence whinnied happily as he nosed his saddle. Anduin tucked the leather over his back and clasped it under his belly again, throwing himself over top and poking him into a quick jog to warm him into a gallop.  _ I’ll be dead before dinner, knowing father. _

The wind felt nice carding through his hair, and hopefully he could get back before the last of the fireworks were set off. He could hear the finale all the way from the harbor. It must have been quite a sight… Anduin shook his head and inhaled the incoming wind with a bitter smile. He wondered when he would feel it again. 

Anduin slowed him to a light trot as they entered the stables, the guards now not present as he de-saddled and de-bridled the horse. Anduin grabbed a fresh apple from an unmanned stall and fed it to him as re-filled the trough with oats.  _ Yes _ \- he left a few silvers for the exchange though there was no one running it. He didn’t  _ steal _ . He fetched the pail and refilled the water trough as well, giving Reverence a good rub down and patting him tenderly before he left. 

The hallways were still empty, and it all felt strange and barren and lonely. He was delving back into stone isolation that he would have to bear with for the next week. Anduin sighed as he closed his door, shucking off his boots and hanging the cloak on his coat rack. He changed into his nightclothes, tugging the longsleeve down and his sweatpants on. Anduin curled up on his too-small bed and faced the door, folding his arms across his chest. 

He managed to fall asleep again for a while, probably for about an hour. But there was a soft knock at his door, like the one from earlier. Anduin sighed, feeling too lazy to get up.

“Come in,” his voice cracked sharply as the teen winced. “Come in.” he said again, throat a little sore. His father poked his head through the door and chuckled. He wasn’t in his armor anymore, simple cloth clothes like he was ready for bed like Anduin was. 

“Those do hurt, don’t they?” He smiled as he unattached something off of the side of his pants and placed it on his desk with a metal clang. Anduin was too tired to look. He came back over and flopped down on the bed beside him, the boy staring up at him, exhausted. 

“C’mere,” he opened his arms as the prince rolled into them, burying his face in his chest. “You left again, didn’t you?”

“I came back.” He mumbled into his shirt, fist clenched into the cloth. “Reverence enjoyed it… he made sure we didn’t stay out too late.” 

“The  _ horse _ made you come back?”

“I was napping!” Anduin huffed, looking up and resting his chin on his collar. 

“Anduin… that was a terrible idea.” Troubled thoughts filled the king’s head and paranoid thoughts saddled right beside them. Varian sighed and stared down at the boy, bags under his eyes from restless nights, tossing and turning without sleep. In Varian’s eyes, Anduin was still a boy. He always would be. And like other kids he needed to tire himself out… it wasn’t fair of him to keep Anduin stagnant all the time.

When Anduin returned from the  _ Exodar _ fully finished with his training Varian saw an excited spark in his eye he’d never seen before. It was full of life and mischief, and it brought the king joy to know that Anduin was happy. But Varian wasn’t making him happy, and though that was only a fraction of his job as a father, he wasn’t doing it very well. 

“I got you a gift.”

“If you think that buying me things will work as an apology-”

“It’s not. I just thought you would like them, that’s all. And your birthday is only a week away. I don’t think these would have still been around if I waited that long.”

“What are they, books?”

“No, something for you to tire yourself out with.”

“My bow shattered while fighting that drakonid... Is it a new one?” Varian frowned at the flashback of it’s axe lodging itself into his gut, his boy chanting the prayers of the Light as he revived him. It was… a complicated day. 

“Not quite, but close. They’re on your desk.” Anduin sat up and peered with blurry eyes over at his desk, illuminated by candlelight. 

“Did you light that?”

“Yeah. It was dark in here.” 

“Oh… I hadn’t noticed.” Anduin shrugged and stood up, looking down at his desk.

Attached by a breakable chain were two cerulean blades with silver handles, the thickest of the blade tapering down into the grips. They were nicely colored and looked  _ very _ sharp. He hadn’t used daggers in ages! Valeera was currently away on her own personal trip, and she wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. He couldn’t wait to show her.

Varian chuckled at the impish grin Anduin gave him, lifting the two blades and examining them further.  _ I knew he’d like them _ .

“I can get you a bow for your birthday, if you’d like.”

“That just ruins the surprise!” 

“I feel like you would have figured it out anyways.” Varian flopped back down onto the small bed. Anduin fell beside him, nearly falling off with how much of his father’s bulk took up the bed. The boy simply rolled on top of him as a solution.

“Maybe I should just get you a new bed instead.”

“That shouldn’t have to be a birthday gift.” Anduin teased, playfully kicking his knee with his foot.

“Yeah… maybe sooner. Are the growing pains worse or something?”  
“I haven’t had any yet and you knew that!” Varian laughed at his baby-faced pout, patting his cheek. Anduin sighed. “My back kind of hurts, though, like when I was learning the bow.”

“That bad?”

“That bad.” Varian glowered and rubbed between his shoulder blades as the boy yawned against his shirt. 

“You could always come sleep on my bed, you know. I have a pretty comfortable couch just screaming my name.”

“I wouldn’t do that, it’s rude. And you’re old.” 

“Excuse me?” Varian sat up slightly, hands wandering down to his ribs. Anduin tensed as he tried to pull away, but Varian was stronger than him and tortured the boy with light jabs. “Old, huh?  _ Not that old! _ ” Anduin screeched with laughter while Varian avoided a wild kick from his wiry legs. His cheeks turned red rapidly as he pushed and lightly scratched at his arms with joyful but desperate fervor. 

“Father! Stop-stooop!” Anduin curled up tightly over him as Varian ceased the ticklish prison he’d trapped him in. The boy panted, still slightly giggling.

“So, did you like the daggers?”

“I can’t wait to try them out… but it’s been a while.” Anduin sighed and rested his head on his chest again, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist. “Just wait until Leera’ sees them! She’ll be floored!” 

“She will…” Varian mumbled, pecking his temple. He paused and sighed. “For the record, I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Well… that’s an interesting version of ‘hitting’, but apology accepted.” 

“You have an interesting version of hitting,” Anduin shot back childishly, the king flinching. His brows furrowed, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“Hey,” The boy looked at him, tired. “I’m serious, okay? I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t… I _don’t_ _want to hurt you_. It… it tears me apart every time I can’t control myself. Every time I…”

“It’s okay…” He almost sounded doubtful.

“It’s not okay!” Varian snapped, Anduin flinching hard while stuck in his embrace. “It’s just… when I  _ get like that _ , you know I can’t stop. I don’t want you to try and stop me anymore, okay? I just want you to run away.”

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m not asking.”

“Neither was I.” Varian stared at him and slumped. 

“Anduin, please. It’ll be better for the both of us.” 

“Let’s not… talk about this. Now.” He spoke awkwardly, hiding his face into his father’s neck.

After a few moments of silence, Varian opened his mouth.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed?” Anduin thought for a moment, wrapped his arms around his neck, and nodded. 

“I could use the space.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I PULLED 6000 WORDS RIGHT OUT OF MY ASS
> 
> 14 fucking pages  
what am i doing  
why am i doing  
validation?  
help me
> 
> prendi la spazzatura  
take the garbage


	3. ouchie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anduin dont like chronic pain >:(

Anduin sighed as he filed through paperwork, the familiar uncomfortable feeling beginning from his knee and ending at his hip. The delicate paper crinkled under his grip as he stopped and stared up at the wall with annoyance. Anduin huffed out an irked sigh through his nose and placed the papers back onto the cabinet. He heard the scratches of the quill behind him, his father signing reports and contracts and surprisingly doing as Anduin asked, reading most of them thoroughly. More than he used to, at least. 

It had been a while since his leg had made him cringe with pain and discomfort  _ this _ bad, leaving the priest just sort of… standing and leaning against the cabinet as he tried to breathe it out. There was an aching lump in his windpipe that refused to leave, though. He wheezed as his leg threatened to buckle, and the prince clenched his hands into the wood, nails indenting it. 

“Anduin, are you alright?” His father’s voice knocked him out of the haze, everything getting clearer despite the blurry, tearful eyesight. Anduin couldn’t respond- he was afraid he would start to cry or scream if he even opened his mouth. It had been a  _ year _ since it had happened, pains had wracked him before… they always just caught him off guard. 

“Son?” His voice was beside him now, louder. The teen glanced over at him with glassy eyes and wrapped an arm around his stomach. “Is it hurting again?” He asked quietly, a softer look on his face than his usual hard-around-the-edges glare. Unable to speak through the incessant wheezing and pain, he nodded. His father wrapped an arm around his shoulders and took hold of his elbow, guiding him to lean against his desk. It wasn’t a good idea for Anduin to sit or lay down when his leg was bothering him- he was actually supposed to move through the pain so it would get stronger and feel better. That’s what Velen told him to do, and he trusted him… also, it made sense. 

“Do you want to take a walk or… do you want to see a healer?” Anduin thought for a moment. He would have to go see Morgan Pestle anyways since the man had a refill on his painkillers- he’d just run out, using them over the last year quite slowly since the pain  _ had _ started to fade, but unfortunately… as of  _ now _ , it returned. 

“Can.. can we go down to the apothecary?” He asked, reaching forward and stumbling to grasp his arm. His father reached forward and steadied him, taking hold of both arms. Anduin leaned into him to regain his footing and rested his forehead against his chest plate. 

“Which one…?”

“Morgan… Morgan Pestle. That.. um..” It was still hard to speak, his voice thick and wobbly. 

“Hey, hey.” His knee buckled, leaving him on one leg. “What if you took Reverence out for a ride- out of the city? Maybe it’s just the stress..” He rubbed his back as Anduin’s breath began to stutter. “He could help with the physical therapy- oof-!” Anduin leaned back and nearly pulled his lax father down with him. The king lurched and caught him, keeping one arm around his back as he crouched and swept both legs out from under him. Anduin clutched onto his shoulder as his other arm folded against his chest. 

“I’m gonna take you to your room-”

“I’m not supposed to stay still!” Anduin exclaimed struggling to get out of his hold.

“Anduin, you can hardly stand- hardly breathe! You need a healer.” The prince sagged, burying his face into his neck. The guards started at the sight of them.

“Find Velen- go to the Exodar itself, I don’t care. Get him, please.” Varian glanced down at his son and then back to the guards. “Tell him it’s important.” 

“Yes, sire!” Both guards took off in the direction of the throne room, and the king continued his march down the hall as Anduin’s breath got significantly worse. It sounded like he was wheezing and crying, and he probably was- 

The prince yelped as he was jostled particularly, startling some of the guards in the hall. Varian looked at them with concern he’d felt often as he squeezed his son tenderly. A guard outside of Anduin’s chambers opened the door for him, the king stepping through- hearing it click shut behind him as he lowered Anduin to his feet. He stripped the boy’s belt, boots, shoulder plates, sash, and jacket, putting them into a pile on his desk. Anduin was swaying as if he was drunk just standing, fumbling to lay down as his father helped him. Varian hesitated before running his fingers over Anduin’s gloves. 

He’d seen the scars, how his boy had hurt himself, kept his pain well hidden. That and the scars from Katrana, ones that even pained Anduin to look at. Varian slipped the gloves off and set them on his nightstand, removing his own gauntlets as he took Anduin’s hand into his own again. Though he wasn’t quite a man yet, his hands were still significantly smaller than Varian’s. In contrast, he was pale and fair. Just like Tiffin.

“Father..” Anduin wheezed as he curled up on his side, teeth grit and eyes squinted as he struggled to keep them open. “The priests-Velen told me,” he huffed, hand moving to claw at his leg, “They told me to  _ move _ when it hurt.”

“Anduin, you can’t stand-  _ don’t!” _ The king lurched forward just as the prince moved to sit up, unable to struggle against his father’s gentle hold. “You can hardly stand without pain-  _ don’t argue _ , I know you better than that.” He chastised firmly, brushing pale golden strands away from his eyes. 

Just then, as quick as he hoped, Velen arrived. Though Varian knew he could call on any priest to do the job, there was no one Anduin trusted more than his master. And he knew that Velen wouldn’t mind helping Anduin, just as the boy would do at the drop of a hat for him. Varian stood up just as the Draenei approached his bedside, placing a hand over Anduin’s flank and his forehead. A soft glow enveloped his hands as he began a quiet prayer- and within minutes, it was over.

The young priest looked relaxed and absolutely exhausted. His eyes drooped and his limbs seemed to not cooperate. Velen chuckled and rubbed his thumb across his forehead again, lulling the boy into a quick sleep. Varian covered him with a light blanket and joined the Prophet outside of his room.

“I am glad you called for me as it happened, who knows how much worse it could have gotten.” Velen dipped his head to the king, but the warrior shook his head.

“I’m glad you just got here quickly. He… he wasn’t looking so good.” 

“No, and the aftermath, I assure you, is completely normal. Those who go through chronic pain such as him have problems with over-exhaustion. Pain is tiring, after all.” 

“I… I was going to ask about that, thank you. He had seemed fairly sluggish as of late. I was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.” The Draenei nodded. 

“It is completely natural, but- I advise he use the Light as well as that… medication the Alchemist insisted upon.” 

“He said something about that earlier, but I wasn’t paying much attention.” 

“Well, he ought to bring it up more often. They can keep the aches away quite effectively, I hear.” 

“Let’s hope so.” Varian sighed, sparing one glance toward Anduin’s room before turning away and escorting to Prophet back to the portal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got accepted into a charter school fUCK YEAH


	4. Short Visiting Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin receives a visit from his favorite teacher.

“How are you feeling this evening, Anduin?”

“I’m doing okay, Velen… thank you for coming.”

“King Varian said you did not want to send for me.” Anduin sat up with a slight grit in his teeth as electrified pain shot through his back. He sucked in a few breaths and leaned over onto the Prophet, squeezing his eyes shut as he peeled away the bloody, sticky bandages from his back. “Take my sleeve.” He offered.

Velen grimaced and held his hand close to the younger priests’ thigh, weak arm grasping at his sleeve and gripping so hard he could hear his fragile bones creak. Anduin leaned close into his chest- a common thing for him to do as of late. 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to see you… I always do,” He admitted sheepishly, the trembling on his bruised fingers increasing as he continued to uncover the scarred, sensitive tissue exposed on his back. “I just didn’t want to bother you.” His breath hitched as Velen looked over his head and frowned at the slow progress. He could heal it faster, but it would cause irreparable damage to his body- it would be better for everything to heal fully with him helping along the way, not full-body rejuvenation that would leave him in agony. He traced his fingers lightly on his tender skin, Anduin nearly bending his casted knee as he cringed. 

“You will never bother me, Anduin, no matter how small.” The Light came to his fingertips as he waved his hand over the offending area softly. “I knew you were in pain before your father called me, but I did not wish to intrude upon your pride.” 

“How-” he yelped as the skin on his back began to burn, Velen decreased the power of his Light and squeezed his leg softly, “How,” he repeated quietly, “did you know I was in pain?”

“You are my student,” he replied vaguely, “the bond we share should never be ignored, least of all when you are in such a frail state.” The Draenei bit his tongue. Wrong choice of words, Anduin took such details seriously. 

“I think that’s just another way of saying you care too much.” Anduin grinned, looking up at him as he rested his cheek on his shoulder. He shivered as Velen smoothed a slick paste over the tissue, wrapping it carefully back into bandages that covered his chest. 

“I care too much about many things. I suppose adding one small child to the list won’t hurt.” Anduin pouted.

“I’m not that small!”

“No, but the damage to your growth plates say otherwise.” 

“Father will never stop teasing me about never going over five foot four.” 

“I am sure you will still grow, it will just be a bit… stunted.” Velen coerced him back under the sweet confines of his bed. Anduin grinned up at him from under the sheets, a bit of playful mirth sparking back into his youthful eyes. The prophet gave him a small smile, and blessed him with a sleep spell with a brush of his fingers, swiping unruly blonde hair from his eyes. 

“Call me when you need, my boy. I will always answer.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi,
> 
> so um, my new school is really taking some focus- CROSS COUNTRY IS ALMOST OVER! so that means I'll have a little more free time. I've just been having some really bad writers block, and I'm trying to keep going with shipwrecked. I will! I won't give up!
> 
> For a year-long project everyone has to do, I'm writing a book based around Norse Mythology. It's a narrative, of course, and I think that might take over the priority if I think I can complete this in a year. I can, hopefully, extend it to two years. I'm not sure. I'm going to get it published, and I hope to God it goes well. (i'm agnostic but fuck it). Please bear with me, this is going to be slow.


	5. the ruins of yesterday oneshot.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian lost track of time.
> 
> "Please, please call me back when you get this. I'm worried."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a modern AU of WoW I've been working on for a while. There's a lot of worldbuilding that goes into this. Bear with me, I might do a whole story soon haha.

“If you get this, please,  _ please _ call me immediately. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

“Dad, it’s been six hours since you left. Where the hell are you? I’ve already called Allison, Thaegra, Maegan, Quincy- even  _ Jarel _ . They said they haven’t seen you.” 

“I’ve called Genn and Auntie Jaina… I’ve even called Khadgar, Valeera, and Broll. They’re worried about you now too.” 

“Eight hours… dad… please be alright. Come back home soon, okay?”

“It’s nearly  _ three in the morning, _ dad.  Auntie offered to come get me while she's here, but… but I want to stay. I want you to come back." 

“Dad? It’s me again. Please come home… please?” 

Varian ran through the last of the voicemails, six of them in total, and resisted the urge to dent the steering wheel of his truck with his forehead. 

At some point during his pity-binge, he’d passed out in his vehicle, completely drunk but thankfully not on a rampage. Even better, away from Anduin. 

Some part of him said that Anduin would rather see him raging drunk but alive rather than scaring the absolute shit out of him by saying ‘I’ll be back in an hour’ and then instead not coming back for twelve. Christ, Anduin probably thought he was  _ dead. _

He contemplated calling him back, but eyeing his phone’s battery, it was out of the question. He’d call, pick up, and then it would die. Varian opted to drive home first, and hope that Wyll wouldn’t skin him alive once he walked through the front door. 

In the last three voicemails, it sounded like he’d been crying for hours. 

He probably had. 

Varian hadn’t gone too far from Hood River, but he was still at least a good twenty-five minutes out. He’d gone to Thaegra’s, purchased a case of pretty hard beers and then conked out at some point near the river. It was a miracle he hadn’t ended up  _ in _ the creek. 

Wincing at the fermented taste in his mouth and the stench of the cab, he started the truck and stared down at the dashboard. What would he say? How could he apologize? This isn’t the first time he’d been gone for a long time, but it was a first for it to be completely spontaneous and long-winded. He hadn’t even told Anduin  _ where _ he was going. He’d never done something like… like  _ this _ before. 

The drive home was oddly silent. He hadn’t decided to turn on the radio, just sat in silence, contemplating and panicking on what he’d say... if he would make an excuse, though that was dumb. He smelled like a dwarven brewery. He hoped he wasn’t swerving at all because the headache was making everything worse the further the dirt roads cracked. Millions of eroded potholes. He would pay the damn city to fill them with gravel or something. It hadn’t been this bad since he and Anduin went down to the river to fish the spring before.

He cranked up the heat to ward off the freezing chill and then rolled down the windows, hoping to air out some of the smell, hanging one of those car fresheners’ over the mirror, vanilla-scented. The air smelled better within minutes. 

Varian leaned back into his seat and stopped at an empty red light, glancing over at the digital clock next to the song previewing on the radio, Pewter-something and his hicky music. Three eighteen. Once the light turned green, he nearly put the pedal to the floor. 

There wasn’t a day that went by when Varian absolutely abhorred driving through his long, dirt-road, tree-filled driveway that looked like your worst nightmare when it was dark out. Especially at the witching hour of three thirty-six in the morning. Monsters jumping out of the trees to tear up your car and then you, something like that. Anduin had said it a long time ago and it was all Varian could think about whenever he pulled in. 

He shut the headlights off and used the light of the moon to park, twisting the engine off and stumbling out of his truck with a hand on the hood steadying him as the blood rushed back to his legs all the way to his toes. Like pricks and numb needles under his skin. He grunted and pushed himself forward, pushing back his messy fringe and staring up at the porch light. Still on. Most of the house was dark except for the kitchen and one lamp in the living room. 

Thank god Reverence wasn’t barking. He was probably passed out cold on Anduin’s bed.

Man, he just loved living in the middle of nowhere. Nobody had to question why his son’s only parent was getting home at nearly four in the morning. It was worth it to sell that old manor to the historian's society. Charitable, too. 

He walked up the porch and twisted the doorknob, finding it locked. He sighed and pressed his lips together, fumbling for his keys before jamming it into the lock and finally pushing the door open. 

In the small entryway, he shucked off his coat and boots, hardly registering the frost on his shoes in his haste to get out of the cold. He made his way into the living room and looked at the lone lamp, finding Wyll tucked into his usual armchair, fast asleep. Varian felt a bitter smile stretch his weary face. The poor old man. Having to deal with him  _ and _ Anduin? It was a miracle he was still alive. 

He heard a faint noise coming from the kitchen and gulped, saliva traveling in thick globs down his dry throat. He was legitimately thirsty as well as hungry. When was the last time he ate? Varian hung his keys on the rack on the doorframe next to the living room archway and stepped into the hall just outside where the noise came from, heart pounding against his chest. 

With a deep breath, he forced himself into the kitchen and froze. 

His fourteen-year-old son curled up on one of the island stools, cell phone out in front of him, ready to press call again on his contact photo. 

_ Should I wake him up… or should I take him to bed?  _

_ He has school tomorrow. Put him to fucking bed, you idiot.  _

Varian crept forward and kept his hands gentle as to not startle him into waking. It wouldn’t be the first time Anduin had to be carried to bed, so it shouldn’t seem unfamiliar. He bent down and slid his arms under his knees, clothed in soft blue flannel sweatpants, and put one under his back. Wearing that stupid Kirin Tor pun sweater Jaina had gotten him only last Christmas. He maneuvered Anduin’s head and arms to fall around his shoulders, pecking his cheek as he went back out into the living room, almost tip-toeing up the stairs as to not wake the old man slumbering in his favorite chair. Wyll was too tall and heavy for him to carry to his room, despite him being stronger than the average man. 

He pushed open his thankfully slightly ajar door and settled Anduin onto his bed, tugging the comforter over him. Reverence was curled up on the bottom of the bed, his ears twitching as he lifted his nose to look at the two. Varian sat on the edge and let out a long, tired breath, reaching over to pat the big dog on his flank. Varian turned to Anduin and cupped his still slightly chubby cheek, the stubborn bit of baby fat hanging on, and rubbing the pad of his thumb under Anduin’s irritated eyes. He looked like a mess. 

Christ, he was so good at this…  _ father _ thing, wasn’t he? 

Varian pressed a feather-light kiss to his slumbering son’s forehead, soothing the pitiful noise that emerged from his chest. Anduin’s eyes were opening.

_ Shit. _

“Dad?” He bolted up, confused, terrified, happy, and his eyes were already at the waterworks. Varian wrapped him up against his chest, comforter and all. Reverence sat up straighter at the pitiful noises from his owner, alerted to his panic. 

“I know, Andy, I know. We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“Dad, wait-”

“Get some sleep, okay?” Varian began to let go and send him back off to sleep, petting the back of his head. 

“Dad!” He nearly screeched, grappling onto him like a lifeline when Varian stood up to leave. He froze, sitting back down onto the bed as the boy suddenly sobbed into his shoulder. He strained his ears to listen to the childlike mumbling that was spilling forth from his mouth. 

“Don’t leave me, please. Don’t go. Stay here.  _ Stay.”  _

“Anduin,” Varian stressed, his throat constricting painfully. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Where  _ were _ you? And why do you smell like you’ve been drinking?” He cried, nails digging into his back. 

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long. It won’t happen again,” He avoided the question completely, rocking the boy back and forth to try and lull him into slumber again. Anduin was still heaving and twitching against him every few minutes, but it seemed to be dying down. “It’s four now. Go back to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

“You have work.” Anduin countered sleepily as Varian lowered him against the pillows, too exhausted to protest. 

“I know. Now sleep. We’ll talk when you wake up.” He kissed his forehead against and made sure he was tucked in and warm before padding back to his room and collapsing into his bed. 

Wyll was going to skin him  _ alive. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want to see more! I personally think building up a modern WoW has been pretty interesting so far! I could share more of what I've done with you if you enjoyed this. 
> 
> Also, kudos to the people who recognized the names in the second sentence! They're all the Innkeepers(and Bartenders*winkwink*) around Stormwind. 
> 
> Also, my modern WoW Varian has a fucking truck. Yeah, that's right. A truck.


End file.
